


Please Don't

by Mireille



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-23
Updated: 2003-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 03:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13778697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: A short ficlet set after "The Thin Dead Line."





	Please Don't

"Is that coffee?"

"Yeah, it's coffee--and no, you don't get any," Gunn said, moving the cup when Wesley reached for it. If he'd known Wesley was going to wake up, he wouldn't have left the room, even just for long enough to get a cup of coffee. "Ice chips and an IV, that's all you get for a while."

Wesley gave him a resigned nod, and Gunn reached for the cup of ice one of the nurses had brought in. "I'm not supposed to let you have much," he warned.

"I don't want any," Wesley said, pulling away and then wincing from the movement.

"And hold still," Gunn added. "After all the trouble we had getting you here, you'd better not pull out any stitches." He smiled, just in case Wes was doped-up enough to think he was serious, and reached out to cover Wesley's hand with his own again.

Cordelia thought he'd been sitting here all this time because he felt guilty for what had happened to Wesley. Maybe he did a little, but not that much--if those zombie cops hadn't shot him, something else could have happened, to either of them.

He couldn't tell Cordy why he was here. Hell, he wasn't a hundred percent sure himself why he was here, except that Wes was here, and so this was where he was going to be, at least until he was sure Wes would be okay.

Wesley's eyes were half-closed now; the doctor had told them that he'd probably spend most of the next few days sleeping. "Hey, English," Gunn said, quietly. "Want me to go so you can rest?"

His eyes opened again. "Please don't," he murmured, with a faint smile and a weak squeeze of Gunn's hand. "I'd much rather you stay."

Yeah,  _sure_  he wasn't sure what he was doing here. Nothing at all to do with big blue eyes and the way he'd felt like his legs had been cut out from under him when he thought Wes wasn't going to make it, not at all.

And he still believed in the Easter bunny, too.

He was here because Wes was, and that made this where he wanted to be, for a lot of reasons that he thought maybe he ought to mention sometime when Wes wasn't high on morphine.

Right now, all he was going to say was, "Right here, Wes."

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](https://mireille719.tumblr.com)


End file.
